Diary of a Shopkeeper, 4th May
All the talk in the shop last week about gold, silver, and bronze medals makes me think of their opposite. What’s awarded to the team or individual who comes last in a competition? The wooden spoon. We might hear in a world cup report, for instance, ‘England came out top of their qualifying group after victories over Lichtenstein, Kazakhstan and Tristan da Cuhna. Scotland, meanwhile, crashed out of the finals and picked up the wooden spoon following defeats to Brazil, Germany and Argentina.’
This always seemed grossly unfair. Not the relative challenges of the group stages, but the use of the phrase ‘wooden spoon’ to describe a poor performance. Why suggest that a wooden spoon is the just reward of losers? It’s the most useful tool in the kitchen! To be exact, a wooden spoon and a good sharp knife are the two most useful tools in the kitchen. And a well-seasoned cast-iron frying pan. The three most useful tools in the kitchen are a wooden spoon, a good sharp knife, a cast iron pan, and an almost fanatical devotion to Delia Smith. Hold on. Amongst a kitchen’s battery of utensils, the most indispensable are such items as: a wooden spoon, a good sharp knife, a cast iron pan, a well-thumbed Delia Smith and… Enough!
Sorry about that: I didn’t expect the Sauce Espagnole Inquisition.
All these thoughts ran though my head as I walked back along Victoria Street yesterday, delirious with joy. The source of my happiness? I’d just been to Shearer’s to buy three wooden spoons. I had two wooden spoons at home already, a big one and a small one. But they always seemed to be in the sink when I needed them. Also, I’ve had them for years, and what is a well-seasoned patina on a cast-iron pan, looks more like an unhygienic stain on a wooden spoon. So I decided to splash out and buy a new one. Until it turned out that I could get a bumper fun-pack of three for £1.50. At which point I threw caution to the winds and bought the lot: large, medium and small. Last night I used the large one to stir fry some mushrooms and garlic. This morning I used the small one to keep my scrambled eggs moving around the pan. What delights await when I bring the tantalisingly named ‘medium’ into action? I can hardly wait to find out.
This is unusual for me. Normally I don’t place much store on material objects as a source of happiness. Especially not material objects of the kitchen-gadget variety. I don’t have an air fryer. I’ve never used a George Foreman grill. I’ve eaten excellent bread made in other people’s bread-makers, but I’ve never owned one myself. Everyone has their favourite gadget, and anything that helps us cook healthy, delicious food at home must be good. But for me, simplicity is best, hence my love for a good wooden spoon. The problem with a bread-maker is you can only do one thing with it: make bread. With a wooden spoon (and a knife, and a pan) you can make anything at all, from custard to cockie chicken.
I feel a noble cause reaching out to possess me. I must launch a campaign to stop this super-essential implement being used as a signifier of sporting failure. Much more appropriate would be the pasta machine. Thousands of these gleaming monstrosities have been bought by impressionable home-cooks. Usually they’ve fallen under the spell of Jamie Oliver, or watched Masterchef contestants make it look easy to wheech out a few sheets of pasta and turn them into perfect ravioli – invariably stuffed with some exotic filling like confited weasel’s eggs. The reality is that 99% of pasta machines are bought, used once, and pushed to the back of the hall cupboard for the next five years. They’re then discovered during a spring clean, and the cook of the house thinks, ‘I must give that another go,’ before showing it back in and opening a packet of shop-bought tagliatelle.
Let’s start with this summer’s Island Games. When we get to the final reckoning in the pickleball league, let’s not mention wooden spoons. I propose that we say instead, ‘And the pasta machine goes to…Shetland.’ I hope my modest proposal for kitchen justice doesn’t stir up too much controversy.
This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 8th May 2025. A new diary appears weekly. I post them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations, and occasional small corrections or additions.